And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. ‘But it is entirely natural that I choose my own country. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered.
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